I do not own Transformers. Only my OC.

Thank you to everyone who took the time to review. It really means a lot to me!

To answer a few question - forget "Dark of the Moon" exists and float along with the story. You'll see what happens :)

Chapter 2

There were several things I never saw myself accomplishing in life. One of them was firing a gun properly. Last time I'd held one I had managed to shoot everything but the target. Others included owning a mythical creature, seeing my parents alive again, traveling in space and laying out a giant robot with a bit of water. Yet as Ironhide lay sprawled out on the floor with the grumpiest expression fathomable, I knew I had just accomplished one of these remarkable feats.

"I said I needed to rinse my face, not blow it off!"

"Sorry," I squeaked. The controls of the decontamination chamber had been altered since I last used them.

Light blue fluid streamed down Ironhide's chin as he sat up.

"Are you alright?" I hurried down the ramp and nearly wiped out in a puddle at the bottom.

Ironhide sniffed and pressed a fist to his nose. He wasn't in the least bit fazed at the sight of his own energon. "Punctured tube," he said before inhaling sharply.

I climbed onto his knee. "Let me see."

"It'll stop in a minute." He took another deep breath.

I knew a bloody nose was at the bottom of a long list of injuries my beloved Ironhide had endured in life, which included loss of limb, and I knew his body had the ability to heal, but it didn't make me feel any better. He didn't need this kind of abuse when he was home. I often joked about kicking him but the reality was I rarely ever acted on it and even when I did the blow didn't even amount to a friendly swat on the back.

I sighed. His injuries always seemed to worry me. Would there be a day when they would be too significant to heal?

The thought sent a shiver down my spine.

"What's troubling you?" Ironhide prodded.

"Nothing." I leaned away from his assault. "Just thinking."

"Apparently. Your anxiety levels are high."

I let out another sigh.

A sense of reassurance tickled at my heart before two fingers took hold of my sides and lifted me just enough for his hand to get under my body. "Quit worrying about my nose," he said once I was at eye level. "It's already stopped."

"It's not just that."

He seemed to understand. "You knew from the beginning what my job entailed."

"That doesn't make it any easier."

"I would rather you feel my pain and exhilaration than have you out on the battlefield with me."

"I know," I said quietly.

Four years ago Ratchet had preformed a bizarre surgical experiment in hopes of saving my life from the toxic energon that had invaded my body. It had worked, but at a cost. Ironhide and I had lost our emotional privacy.

"I don't like knowing you're hurt and not being able to help," I said.

"Ratchet does a fine enough job."

I bowed my head, "I can't possibly out class Ratchet, but just as you wanted to be there for me when Roadbuster cracked my skull open, I want to be there for you when you are hurt."

A dismal yet frustrated sense hit my heart.

My life had been spared through a risky procedure Ratchet called 'splicing,' in which a small fragment of Ironhide's spark had been extracted and placed within my chest to serve like a pacemaker. Just as a heart pumped blood through the human body, a Cybertronian spark energized energon into doing the same. Together the two ensured my body remained stable, but the anomalies surrounding my health had little to do with the spark we now shared. They stemmed from the serums I had been injected with shortly after my infection. Serums Ratchet had hoped would cleanse my system of the deadly toxin without need for further action. Instead they had done something much worse.

They had mutated my body and allowed the energon to bind with my blood.

"The war will eventually be over," Ironhide said. "Just be patient."

"Eventually," I repeated. "What exactly does that entail? A year? A decade? A millennia?"

His optics dimmed.

"Why do I have a feeling I'll be dead before something happens?"

He knocked me over, "because you're a morbid brat, that's why."

"Me?" I pushed back. "Who's the one who's constantly worried I'll drop dead of a heart attack."

He grunted. "I've been less worried about that since I got you into school."

"I got myself in, thank you."

"Only because I forced you to apply."

"Oh," my eyes narrowed, "and what would have you done had I not been accepted?"

"The same thing I did in the months leading up to your first semester."

I groaned. "Would you really have left me in their care?"

"Better them than the Decepticons."

"I can assure you that traveling the world would have been a safer option."

"Until you were captured on the notion of being a spy again."

"I can't help North Korean's military is crazy. Besides which," I pushed his finger away when it came for me again, "I wasn't captured."

"It was close enough."

True. Ironically it had been a Decepticon Seeker who saved me, though I suppose Ironhide deserved some credit since he had been the one to shoot the bugger down. It had been the final straw though. After two years of dragging me around the world and ditching me at random locations so he could engage in battle, he'd finally had enough and hurried the finalization of my independence.

The splicing process had rendered us incapable of separation at first. Much like a babe the fragment in my chest had been weak and vulnerable and had required Ironhide's unique spark signature to feed and nourish it until it was strong enough to support itself. It had not been an easy task. The farther Ironhide traveled, the weaker the signal grew and if it grew too dim my spark faltered to the point where I suffered a heart attack. Unfortunately the bond was like a rubber band. It had the ability to stretch pretty far, but it also had the ability to snap without warning. I had suffered twice from its recoil before Ironhide and Ratchet and decided to take extreme caution, opening the way to global travel.

"Do you ever miss not having me out there?" I asked.

"No," Ironhide said easily.

A pang of hurt hit my heart.

"I have no reason to miss you on the battlefield," he said. "I think more clearly when I don't have to worry about your safety, but," he ruffled my saturated hair, "I do miss having you around when things are quiet."

I smiled sadly and leaned against his fingers.

Ironhide had spent a solid year off the battlefield to care for me. By the second year our baby steps were made as educational as possible. Homeschooling was an interesting endeavor. The Autobots always tried to leave me at museum or a historic site, but it didn't always work out that way. Quite often I found myself in a small town with book work, not that it was bad alternative. I had seen more of the world than I ever thought I would and I had always been safe. It hadn't been too bad for Ironhide either. He loved fighting and saw a fair amount of action, but for the most part he had resigned himself to watching, listening and gathering information that year. His main concern had been me. By the time our third year rolled around he had returned to his usual duties and engaged it whatever battles he could. The fourth saw backpedaling. He once again removed himself from the battlefield, this time with the driving desire to get me on my own feet.

It was a wonder we hadn't grown tired of one another. I had only suffered one, fairly minor heart attack from the bond-stretching this past year, but Ironhide's demands for me to attend college had placed a great deal of strain on my system. I hadn't known what I wanted to study and the threat of further attacks had me weary of extensive separation. The fact that my GED was a fake didn't help, either. I was tutored by Cybertronians. I had barely learned what the average high school student was required to.

Health classes had amounted to a five minute spiel on human contraception and ended with Ratchet saying it was pretty pointless because Ironhide could no more give me a STD than he could impregnate me. It had been short, but left me with nightmares of thirty pound robot baby in my stomach for days.

Ultimately my education had come down to Cybertronian studies. It's what they knew. I learned a little bit of human sciences, but most of what I studied revolved around alien biology, anatomy, engineering and mathematics. So I was pretty certain the only reason I had been granted a diploma was because a few arms had been twisted. I didn't even have an SAT or ACTS score to back me up! Yet despite all this I somehow managed to get into a tech school. In Florida. Near the Kennedy Space Center. Where four Autobots were permanently stationed.

Yeah, I sensed a conspiracy.

"Hey," Ironhide nudged me. "You should talk to Ratchet about that dream."

It took me a moment to realize which one he was referring to. "I don't want to, thanks."

He gave me that don't-make-me-force-you look.

"I think we both know what will result in my telling him."

"Theories might eventually yield answers," he pressed.

"Might," I reiterated. "Until then I am a living- " the water shut of "-pin cushion."

The door to the decontamination chamber slid open and revealed a tall yellow-green mech about Ironhide's height. His expression was that of displeasure.

"Ironhide, do I need to rearrange your circuitry?" Ratchet asked. "It's the middle of winter and you have Melry soaked to the bone without a change of clothes. What part of this sounds intelligent?"

Ironhide shrugged. "I didn't plan on throwing her out in the cold, but now that you mention it..."

"Don't you dare," my eyes narrowed.

His face contorted into a lopsided grin.

I knew the jerk wouldn't act upon it, but it did give me reason to glower at him. "My sweater is in Uncle Will's office," I told Ratchet. "I can use that while my clothes dry."

"Hmm," Ironhide sounded. He didn't need to complete the remark for me to blush.

Pervert.

Ironhide scratched my back with a chuckle.

"If that's all you're going to give me as an apology you can sleep on the curb tonight." I told him.

"That a threat?"

"It's a promise. And I hope it snows." It was difficult to sound mean. Really I was amused. It still earned me a delightfully oversized kiss though.

"Take her to get dry," Ironhide held me out. "I'll follow shortly."

I jumped between hands. The dryers built into the chamber weren't exactly human friendly. I had already been through one tornado in my life. I didn't need a reminder of what it was like.

"Melry, you really ought to be more cautious," Ratchet said as we departed. "You may be resilient to illness but you are not impervious. You know how badly your system reacts when something gets through."

Ratchet had taken over the role as my physician when I became infected. It wasn't hard to understand why. Before their kind had arrived on Earth energon had been an unknown substance to humans, but it was an everyday necessity for their kind. Not only did it serve as their life-blood, it powered their ships, weaponry and was even acted as something of a food source. Without it they would perish.

And there wasn't very much of it Earth.

"Anything I need to know?" Ratchet asked after we'd retrieved my sweater and entered in his medical bay.

"Not really. I'm doing alright."

The doctor nodded and proceeded to pull a large heater and a suitcase sized container from the cabinets lining his workbench. The former found itself placed on the far side of the desk while the latter landed at my feet. He then turned to his computer.

I only stared at the case.

"Unless you've developed the ability to absorb medication through your eyes I suggest you make a better effort."

Now there was an idea! If only I could make it work.

"Can I take these with me when I go back to school?" I fiddled with the latch.

"I have no use for them here," he replied. His tone was kind but my mind added the 'well duh' comment just to make me feel like a genius.

Despite its size, the case held very little. Most of it was the padding. A mirror and several bottles of medication, all crafted by the doc-bot himself, were tucked into the foam. I was required to have three injections and a plethora of pills a day. They regulated what my spark could not - high blood pressure, nutritional disorders and a number of other things caused by the serums he'd used on me. Ratchet was still trying to figure out how to dispel the contaminant from my body, too.

"Are you enjoying your vacation?" He asked after I disposed of the garbage.

"More than you can possibly imagine." My voice was filled with such relief that Ratchet laughed.

"Come now. School can't be that bad."

"School's fine," I assured him, "if anything it's a little boring. I have to take all these dumb side classes before I can start the ones in my major. Most of it is elementary school level, if you want my honest opinion. My mentorship on the other hand…" I didn't even finish the sentence. "I'm not going there."

"You can always back out," Ratchet reminded me gently. "No one is forcing you to remain in a difficult program."

"I'd never live it down."

"If you suffer a mental breakdown your mentors mightn't either."

I wanted to believe he was joking, but I was dating Ironhide, the same guy who had driven an Autobot's head into the concrete for calling me a stupid, pathetic, flea bag of a wench. Not that I had contested his actions. It was difficult to feel bad for someone who refused to seek medical attention and immediately threw themselves right back into a tussle with the very person who'd just rearranged their face.

Trigger happy numbskulls, I was surrounded by them.

I looked into the mirror and grumbled at my reflection. My long brown hair was clumped together like poorly crafted dreadlocks, my skin held an almost vampiric hue thanks to the energon and my vibrant energon-blue eyes were filled with exhaustion. I need to work on this sleep thing. I was going to get even less of it when I returned.

"You and Ironhide should come down and visit me at some point," I said. "There's this fun little place where you can see manatees. It's pretty secluded."

"I would enjoy that," Ratchet smiled.

"Then what's keeping you?"

His gestured around him. "This. We never know when or where the Decepticons will strike. We can't have our team dispersed across the country for personal reasons. It would cost more time and money to get us back together than your government is willing to spend."

"I think NEST would survive a battle or two without your assistance." I moved closer to the heater. "Just send Jolt up to take your place for a couple of weeks. He'd enjoy seeing combat again."

"I'd imagine." Ratchet closed when he was doing and turned his full attention upon me. "Jolt has always enjoyed a good battle, but orders are orders. Our numbers are limited and Optimus desires my medical expertise. I must respect his decision."

"I know. It just seems stupid that there are four combat loving Autobots stationed in Florida, one of whom is a medic, and you're stuck here."

"Unfortunately that's the problem." Ratchet said. "The Wreckers are notorious for their hostility and enthusiasm on the battlefield. They could cause just as much destruction as the Decepticons if left unchecked."

Hence why one of them had their head planted in the concrete. "I guess, but it still sucks."

The medi-bot squatted down to eye level. "Melry, we've all been very impressed with you these last several months, especially Ironhide. He won't admit it, but he was afraid you wouldn't adapt. We're glad to see you're doing well and I have no doubt you'll continue doing so, regardless of whether or not we can make it down."

I forced a smile. "I do what I can for the team."

"Don't be so sarcastic," he said. "College might not have been what you wanted, but it's vital for you to remain connected with your peers. You have a bright future ahead of you. Don't burn your bridges too early."

I had to think that over for a second. "Isn't the saying to never burn bridges at all?"

He smiled weakly. "Unfortunately knowing us means you have to burn a few, if only to appease the top secrete nature of our existence."

I had to admit, it was remarkable they had remained a secret this long. There had countless stories and videos taken by victims and bystanders over the years. It only went to show how much control the governments of the world had over their people, and how easily people were swayed. I had heard it all; freak filming accidents, natural disasters, terrorist attacks, and corporate negligence. There was no end to the excuses. The lies.

I couldn't even tell my best friends who my boyfriend truly was. The threat of jail was all too real. It made for so many complications, a double life that was often hard to keep track of. What was I supposed to tell people when some of my closest friends weren't even human?

Oh, you know, I totally had it out this weekend with a giant green monster who's armed to the teeth with alien weaponry, I thought. Yeah, that would go over well with my college friends. So would telling them I was so close to an alien spaceship I could lick it… not that I wanted to. I would probably develop some horrific space disease if I did. Goodness knows when the Xanthium was last cleaned.

"How is Jolt holding up down there?" Ratchet asked. "I haven't spoken with him in a while."

I shrugged. "Other than not being in battle, he seems to be doing fine. He gets fed up with the Wreckers and crashes at my place every now and then."

"They can be a torturous lot. Not unlike Ironhide." He grimaced in memory.

"You have a problem Ratchet or are your facial sensors glitching?" The devil himself spoke. Water still dripped from his alloy. "I think I'm fairly easy to deal with."

"Since when?" Ratchet and I asked in unison.

"You have no right to talk!" Ironhide bellowed.

I was lucky we had such a great relationship. Ironhide could get me in serious trouble if he wanted to. Ratchet was blissfully unaware of some of my so-called bad habits. One of them included staying up until dawn, something he considered taboo because of my illness.

"Are you finished taking blood?" Ironhide asked.

"I didn't need to. I ran all my tests yesterday."

"And does she check out?"

"As far as I can tell. There are a few oddities but nothing that raises a flag. I'll look her over again before she heads back to school, however I doubt there will be any problems." His voice turned harsh when he added, "if you don't get her sick."

Ironhide remained undaunted. "And here I thought she would enjoy a swim in the Potomac."

I was cold just thinking about it.

"You ready to hit the road?" He asked, ignoring the dirty look from his age old friend.

I pulled the sweater on over my head. "Yep."

"Good." He held out his hand. "I need to check in with Optimus then we're in the clear."

"Any destination in mind?" I climbed into his palm.

"Anywhere but here."

Sounded good to me. I had a week left before I returned to school and I intended to use it well.